Streaking
by SilkePrins
Summary: While being chased by the cops, Emily Prentiss jumps into a cab that is just about to pull away. Moments later, she realizes she's not alone. She's joined by a tall, handsome stranger. AU: young Emily and young Aaron. Hotch/Prentiss
1. The Stranger in the Cab

_Synopsis: While being chased by the cops, Emily Prentiss jumps into a cab that is just about to pull away. Moments later, she realizes she's not alone. She's joined by a tall, handsome stranger. AU: young Emily and young Aaron. _

**1**

The sound of footsteps behind her was coming closer, and her breathing quickened with every step. Take a left. Through an alley. Straight on. Cross the street. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. She could lose him, but the alleys and shortcuts were running out and he was still tailing her, coming closer by the second. She needed a getaway. Cross another street. Left or right? Left. Another three corners away was a taxi stand. Speed up. Push push push. In the corner of her eye she saw a small church flashing by. How ironic. Rounding the last corner she saw the yellow blur of her getaway.

"Police. Stop running." She pushed through her last energy and grabbed the handle of the first cab in row.

"Drive drive drive!" She called, and the scraggy boy behind the wheel –who looked like he had only just graduated high school- hit the gas, anxiously looking at her through his mirror.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" It was only now that she noticed that she was apparently sharing the cab. With a tall, handsome guy. "Stop this car right now."

"No!" She anxiously looked out the back window, still panting from the frantic run. "Please don't. I'll pay you double your fee if you just drop me off a few blocks from here." If this guy stopped the cab right here, she'd be arrested for sure.

"Excuse me." The handsome guy –wearing a slim fitting suit, with his tie untucked next to him and he first few buttons of his shirt undone- threw a pissed look at his fellow passenger before directing his glare back to the terrified cab driver. "I am a SWAT officer and if you don't stop this car right here right now, I will have you arrested." He didn't usually use his job to his advantage, but this young woman and presumably criminal –albeit an attractive one- was invading his personal space on a whole new level.

"Don't listen to him." She smiled sweetly at the cab driver. "He can't just arrest you, trust me." Comforted by the fact that the cop who had been chasing her was no longer in sight, she settled down into her seat, calming her rapid breathing. "Just drive a couple more blocks and I'll pay you three times your regular fee."

The young man, not insensitive to her bribe, reluctantly kept on driving. "Sorry Sir."

The man let out an exaggerated sigh, but by now he had become a little distracted by this mysterious lady hogging his cab. Loose dark curls fell down her shoulders, barely touching the top of her dress. A long, flowy summer dress That hugged her curves in just the right places. He highly doubted she was a seasoned criminal, although –as he had learned today- looks can be deceiving. He averted his eyes with a slight blush on his cheeks, and turned his head away to look out the window. But not before his fellow passenger had spotted his rosy cheeks.

"Emily." She said, and extended her hand out to him. But she didn't get any response, he just looked at her for a few seconds and huffed, before turning back towards the window. "Fair enough." She grinned. "It's better that you don't know my name anyway."

He turned around in shock, only to see her laughing right at him, exposing her white teeth. He finds himself suppressing the urge to smile with her. "What did you do anyway?" he says, trying his best to sound indifferent.

"That's for me to know and for you to only guess." She winked at him. "So are really a SWAT officer?"

"Yes." He caught himself sitting up straighter, trying to appear bigger. She invaded his cab ride, for god's sake, why was he trying to impress her?

"Then what's with the fancy suit, Mr officer?" he looked down at his attire, a black suit with a white shirt and a dark red, striped tie. Although he didn't mind wearing suits, this was not his regular work attire. With his work came a full proof uniform. However, he had not been at work today, he'd been to a day of seminars about the science of human behaviour. Issued for the whole team by his commanding officer. And although he hadn't quite looked forward to a day of sitting in class, especially in this weather, it had actually been very interesting. He had even signed up for a follow up course. "That's for me to know and for you to only guess." He answered her question, and listened to her laugh for the second time today. He already felt addicted to it.

"You're funny." That's the first time anyone had said that to him, he snorted, and he turned around to find her staring at him with a smile. What was it about this girl that was making him act so strange? She had jumped into his cab to fled the police, and he was just making nice with her like she was just a girl he'd met in a bar. Although he rarely went to bars, and when he did he wasn't really the smooth talker kind of guy. The only girlfriend he had had, had dumped him straight after high school, and asking someone out was not his strong suit. Let alone dating someone he hadn't known for forever.

"Uhm, ma'am?" the cab driver interrupted his thoughts. "Are we far enough?"

"Yes sure, this will do." Emily said, noting the cab driver's anxiousness to get her out of his cab. "Well, have a nice night, Mr. officer." He watched as she got out of the cab on the corner of the quiet street, and paid the cab driver a generous amount through his rolled down window. He really shouldn't let her walk alone in this neighbourhood, at this time of the night, but the cab driver had already closed his window again and was starting to pull away. And it shocked him to feel a pang of disappointment that she was gone, and he would never see this woman again.

It wasn't until the cab started speeding up that he noticed the lone item lying on the other seat. A white phone that most certainly didn't belong to him.

**TBC**

_Author's note: I'm back! Thank you for reading. If you see any mistakes, grammar/spelling/or other, I hope it didn't bother you too much. English is not my native language, and I've been out of the writing game for a little. The second chapter is already in the makings, so keep an eye out for that, and let me know your thoughts and ideas. All feedback is welcome! Have a lovely day, Silke. _


	2. The Stranger on the Sidewalk

**2**

Aaron Hotchner yawned as he turned the key in the lock of his front door. It was 9 AM and he'd been at work for the last 42 hours, and apart from a short lived nap, he had not had any sleep. It was time to go to bed and not wake up for at least a couple of hours. Having been given a few days of, he intended to enjoy the freedom of not having to do anything.

Pushing through a layer of mail –bills, mostly- he opened his door and stepped inside of his small apartment. This last case had been particularly gruesome. They had assisted NYPD with a hostage situation in a theatre of off Lafayette street. There had been a fundraiser going on when six unsubs had barged in and locked the whole place down, demanding to speak to the president of the Bank of New York Melton. They never got to speak with her and al six unsubs were killed during the hostage rescue. 37 hours of waiting and negotiating, and the six unsubs had still chosen to kill fifteen of the sixty-seven hostages, including three children.

He kicked off his shoes and walked straight on to his bedroom. He'd only moved into this apartment a couple months ago, when he'd started training at SWAT, and he hadn't had much time to decorate yet. He wasn't much of a frilly things type of guy, but he had a box of photos and other memories he'd like to put up. Maybe he would give it a try in the upcoming few days.

He hung his jacket on a coat hanger in his closet, exchanged his dress shirt for an old FBI shirt he'd once gotten at an orientation day, and pulled a new pair of sweatpants from a drawer next to his bed. He made a mental note to change his sheets first thing tomorrow morning.

Walking back into his kitchen, he poured himself a night/morning cap of inexpensive whiskey, and took some left over pasta from the fridge that would serve as dinner and breakfast. Just as he was about to heat up his food in the microwave, his phone started to ring. His caller ID showed it was Penelope Garcia, a talented techie with an IQ through the roof, whom he'd met a few years ago and who did some freelance work for him every now and then. "Hotchner." He answered.

"Hello Mr. Clark Kent." Aaron did not remember a single time she had called him by his actual name. "I have the information you asked for."

He shot a look at the white phone laying on his kitchen counter, and without his consent his heart started to beat a little faster. "Tell me."

"Your mysterious phone belongs to one Emily Prentiss, 21 years old and in her last year of linguistics studies at NYU. Her name should ring a bell with you, as she's the daughter of Ambassador Prentiss. And she's been in the media a few times for showing her support at a couple LGBT events, which her mother evidentially seems to be against." She took a deep breath and flipped a page in her dossier. "How much of her private life would you like to know? She has some very interesting text conversations."

Ambassador's daughter? Aaron had not seen that coming. She hadn't looked like a seasoned criminal, but also not like a trained socialite. Although she'd had the grace and control of someone who'd had training in public appearances. "Nothing, Garcia. If you could just send me her address so I can return her phone."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sending you all her practical contact information as we speak." The sound of rapid key strokes echoed through the phone. "Are you sure you don't want me to include those messages? They're entertaining to say the least. And from what I can tell, you can use a bit of entertaining."

"Very sure." Penelope was the best at what she does, but that also meant she was the best at what she shouldn't do, snooping into things non-related to the case. Or in this case, a favour. "Thank you, Garcia."

"No problem, Mr. Kent. Just remember you owe me two tickets to Xanado Spa." He nodded and told her they were on their way, before hanging up the phone and putting it back into his pocket. Standing in the middle of his kitchen, he contemplated his next move. Either he could follow his original plans of eating and going to bed, or he could muster up his last energy and return Emily's phone. Shooting one last glance at his whiskey, he made up his mind and went back to his bedroom to change again. Emily's address was only halve an hour away, and if he got lucky with traffic he'd make it there just before 10. His bed would have to wait a little longer. He had a phone to return, and an ambassador's daughter to see.

I should've stayed home, was the first thing Aaron thought as he got out of his car. It was now almost 11, and due to horrible traffic, an accident on the highway three cars in front of him, and taking a wrong turn resulting in being lost, he was cranky and ready to go back home. But now that he had gotten here without dying, he needed to man-up, return this damn phone, and get back home and into bed.

Walking along the sidewalk, he checked all the houses to find number 312. And after halve a minute of walking, he was standing in front of a brownstone on the corner of the street, complete with a wide balcony. It was a beautiful home, Aaron thought, for a beautiful woman. He took in a deep breath, calming himself down, and rang the bell. It was now or never. He waited for a minute before he heard footsteps nearing behind the door. His crankiness started to reduce a little and nerves were taking its place.

"Hi." A dishevelled looking Emily appeared in the doorway, wearing yoga pants and a loose oversized shirt. It took a few seconds for surprise to start showing in her face "Oh hi, it's you!" before Aaron could answer anything, she lurched forward and grabbed his shoulders. "Please tell me you found my phone."

Aaron, a little scared of the crazed look in her eyes, took a small step backwards. "Yes." He stuttered. "I did. You left it in the cab." He faced monsters for a living, and they had nothing on this determined –and a little lunatic- woman.

"Thank god," Emily squealed, "I already called the cab company, but they didn't find it, and I know I didn't leave it at the…" she stopped herself before she could reveal where she'd been prior to nearly being arrested. "But you found it."

She took Aaron by surprise when he handed her the phone and she threw her arms around him. "Thank you."

"Uhm," Aaron stuttered. "You're welcome." The last time he had been hugged by someone was a long time ago, and the last time he had been hugged by someone female even longer. Focus here Aaron, he thought, as Emily started to pull back again.

"You must think I'm totally crazy for reacting like this over a lost phone, but I've got some important things on there and it's my main communication means with my work." She smiled, a little embarrassed.

"That's fine." Aaron chuckled. "I don't mind." Really, Aaron, of course you don't mind the hugging. He face palmed himself -in his mind-, realizing he would look even more like a moron if he would actually do that in reality.

Emily laughed, "I'm sure you don't." She looked at him through her messy bangs. She'd been working out –granted, in front of her television while rerunning an episode of Star Wars- when Aaron had rang her bell, and she didn't look as put together as usual. "So, I assume you know my name, and my address. I'm at a big disadvantage here, Mr. officer."

Aaron tried to scoff, but his face tried to smile so it came out looking rather ridiculous. "Aaron," he said "Aaron Hotchner." She took it, smiling, and he felt a blush trying to break through. What was happening to him? He used to be better at hiding his emotions. "Would you like to know my address as well, to even the score?"

"No, that's alright." She laughed. "How did you manage to find my address anyway?" She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "As you probably found out, my is a little prone to…" She paused, thinking of a political correct word "threats. So my address isn't in any public register."

"I have my ways." Aaron stated, attempting to sound nonchalant. "And my contacts."

"Well alright, Mr. Mysterious." She chuckled. "Thank you for going to the trouble to stalk me, find my address, and return my phone. How can I repay you?"

"You could have a drink with me sometime?" Smooth, Aaron, real smooth. He was one stutter away from being a sixteen year old high school boy again.

"Really?" Emily grinned, slyly. "Should I take that as you asking me out on a date?" Aaron felt all his blood rise to his cheeks, and he was ready to turn around and run back home. "Relax, I think I can do that." Emily said, grinning widely.

"I'll pick you up at 8 here, tonight?" he breathed out, not having expected her to actually say yes.

Emily nodded. "I'll see you tonight then."

"Yes, I'll see you tonight." Aaron paused another moment before turning around and walking back to his car.

He had a date tonight. With the daughter of an ambassador. With a very beautiful daughter of an ambassador. With a very beautiful daughter of an ambassador he had met while she was running from the cops.

What in the world was he going to wear?

**TBC**

_Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, and for your follows and favourites. It helps in motivating me. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter just as much. Next up: The Date. (and you'll find out why this story is called 'Streaking'…) -I have a few options for you. I could keep this story at a short 3 chapters. But I also have a couple of other ideas for this story, and I could continue it for more than 3 chapters. What would you guys like? And if you would like me to continue this story, do you have any ideas of where you would like it to go? I have ideas myself of what I would like to write (including Mr. Aaron Hotchner going streaking, although that might be completely OOC it would be so much fun to write!), but I'm writing this story for you guys, and I would like it even more to write what you, my readers, want to read. So let me know! And have a lovely day x. _


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